Katrina's Story
by Stella Shottz
Summary: The luckiest girl in New York! This is a continuation of the movie, when they all arrive in the city to live. It's told by Katrina in her own crazy way. Rated T for suggestive themes.
1. The Luckiest Girl in New York

Katrina's Story

THE LUCKIEST GIRL IN NEW YORK

**November 30****th**

We rode across the meadow for the last time. I waved goodbye to all the sheep and cattle I've know only forever. It felt sad leaving it all behind, but New York City would bring new adventure!

Ichabod was asleep beside me. I felt the coach stop. Masbath eagerly looked out the window.

I kissed Ichabod's cheek, just like the first time when I was blindfolded. The memories of the month filled my mind. October. I shall always remember the month where everything happened all at once. The month where the stupid Hessian rose from the grave. The month when my father passed on. The month where I met my true love...

Ichabod's eyes fluttered open.

"Ahh, just in time for a new century!" he smiled and opened the door.

It was snowing.

"Oh, my!" Masbath was giddy with excitement.

"And cobbled streets!" I exclaimed in awe taking the boy's hand.

"Yes...New York, New York! It's the modern age, Katrina!" Ichabod slipped in the middle, putting his arms around us.

" It's always the modern age, Ichabod ...but the ancient ones endure," I said turning to him. Snow fell on my nose.

"Ichabod?" asked Masbath. "Do we get to see your house?"

"Of course, Young Masbath! Of course!" he guided us down the streets. I looked at all the buildings. They were so modern!

"Sir," said Masbath. "Is your house far?"

"Not at all!" Ichabod said cheerily. But then he frowned. "Young Masbath, you are no longer my assistant. So, I am afraid you cannot call me sir anymore,"

"Then what will he call you?" I asked.

"Ichabod!" he replied. "Or…"

"Father?" asked Masbath.

"Or Father…Ichabod or Father…" Ichabod trailed off.

"Ok, sir," smiled Masbath. "Uhh…I mean, Father, sir,"

"You can just call me Katrina," I laughed.

"Constable Crane! Ichabod Crane! Is that you?"

Two high constables came rushing toward us.

"None other!" Ichabod smiled.

"We just want to congratulate you on the assignment!" said the fat one.

"Yah, and tell you that Judge Walters upped your rank!"

"Really?"

"Aye!" the fat one looked at me and Masbath.

Ichabod noticed this.

"This is Jonathan Masbath, and Miss Katrina Van Tassel," he said. He looked at me. "Dear, this is James and Fredrick, my fellow co workers,"

James and Fredrick looked at each other with raised eyebrows.

"Well, best be getting home…" Ichabod said. "It's great seeing you two again,"

"Well don't be getting to comfortable now," said James.

"Yah, there's a party over at Merriman's tonight," added Fredrick.

"You can let the city meet your new…guests," smiled James. "Well, best be off now!"

The two merry men skipped along, stopping to whack a drunken sailor.

We reached the edge of the street, stopping at a small house smashed between the clothes store and a pie shop.

"This is my house!" exclaimed Ichabod, pulling out a key. He unlocked the door. We all stepped inside.

It was like nothing I've ever seen! The rug was stretched from corner to corner, covering the whole floor! The walls were brightly painted blue, the same shade as the toile chair and couch.

"I'll light the fire," said Masbath, shivering.

"'Tis beautiful…" I exclaimed.

"And the kitchen is in there," Ichabod pointed to a door. "And my room is up there," he pointed to the stairs. But then he frowned. "I have but one bedroom,"

"It's alright, Father, sir…Ichabod. I'll sleep on the couch…" offered Masbath. "I have been sleeping in a chair all month,"

"I'm afraid that will have to do, for now," said Ichabod.

"And I'll sleep with you!" I said to Ichabod. "for we will be married anyway!"

"Married…"

"When will you two be married?" Masbath asked. "Please don't leave me!"

"We'd never leave you, Masbath," I said, hugging him. "You're like family!"

"Yes," said Ichabod, joining the hug. "And family never goes away!"

"My mother died when I was in swaddling clothes, 13 years ago. I never had a real family before,"

"Well, Jonathan Masbath," Ichabod paused. "Jonathan…John…Johnny…"

"Johnny," I said. "You have one now,"

Masbath, or Johnny, smiled as we suffocated him with hugs. Ichabod kissed my forehead. We all did this group hug thing for a very long time.

I went upstairs to my new room. It was not like the first room. It was wooden, and cold. The bed had nothing but a grey blanket and the windows had no curtains.

"It needs something…" I said to myself.

I went back downstairs.

"Are we going to that party?" I asked.

"Well…" Ichabod started. "Umm…" he looked down. "Alright, I'll be honest…I'm not a social person,"

"You?" I asked.

"Father sir, I confess, I am not either,"

"Oh how I've dreamed of late night New York City parties…" I said dreamily.

"Well, now…" Ichabod looked at me. "Maybe we could pop in for a bit…"

"Constable Crane!" A jolly red headed guy greeted us. "And oh! My!" he looked at Ichabod. "Who are they?"

"I'm Katrina Van Tassel," I piped up. "I'm his fiancée, and this is Jonathan Masbath,"

"Fiancée?" the man asked.

"Yes," Ichabod smiled. "This is Merriman himself. He owns a shop on Main Street,"

Merriman smiled. "How old are you, Jonathan?"

"I'll be fourteen come this spring,"

"I have a daughter, Lissie, just your age. She'll be fourteen in the summer,"

Johnny smiled. "Really?"

"Sure! She's inside,"

"Well! Then we'd better go meet her then, right John?" asked Ichabod.

"Right," he replied.

We all gathered inside. Soon Ichabod was surrounded by old friends. (And he said that he was the non-social type)

Johnny met Lissie. She was an eccentric red haired girl, like her father.

"Constable! You're back!" she noticed Johnny. "Hello," she said. "I'm Felicity Merriman,"

Johnny smiled. "I'm Jonathan Masbath,"

"How do you do," she curtsied.

Now, I do not know how the teenage male mind works, but I did think that Johnny liked what he saw.

"So you're from Sleepy Hollow?" she asked.

"Yes,"

"Well, welcome to New York, Jonathan,"

"You can call me John,"

"Alright, John," she smiled. She had cute little freckles.

Mr. Merriman got up in the center of the room.

"Ladies and Gentleman!" he bellowed. "It is time to dance the minuet!"

Minuet! That was my favorite dance! Brom was always my partner.

Ichabod offered an arm. "Dance?"

"Love to!"

We joined the sea of dancers. I thought I saw Johnny and Lissie together.

"Father, sir," Johnny tugged at Ichabod's coat. "I'm awfully tired. May I go back home?"

"Of course," he replied, giving him the key. "We'll be home in a bit,"

"You're leaving?" asked Lissie.

Johnny shook his head.

"Then I'll see you tomorrow," she said.

"Alright," he headed towards the door.

"John?" she called after him.

He stopped.

She kissed his cheek and giggled.

Jonathan Masbath stood there with a big smile on his face. Then he skipped out the door.

"Young Masbath seems to like New York City," I said.

"Do you like the city?" Ichabod asked.

"I do," I replied.

Just then, a woman bumped into us.

"Excuse me," she said.

"Hello," I said. "I'm Katrina Van Tassel,"

"I'm Elizabeth Lacey," the woman replied. "I own the pie shop down that road," she looked at Ichabod.

"Ichabod Crane! Oh my gosh! You're back!"

Ichabod smiled. "She's my neighbor,"

"So, Katrina, why haven't I had the pleasure of meeting you before?"

"I'm from Sleepy Hollow," I said.

"I brought her back with me," said Ichabod.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh! That's really great! Good for you Ichabod!"

A man with black hair and silvery blue eyes put his hand on Elizabeth's shoulder.

"Oh, and this is my husband, Todd," she added.

"How do you do?" I curtsied.

"FREE DRINKS ON ME!" someone shouted.

Then a crowd of people cheered.

I saw Lissie run up the stairs with her mother.

Things in the city were different from Sleepy Hollow.

We half walked, half danced home.

"Teeheehee! This is fun!" I exclaimed.

"It's really hot out," Ichabod took off his coat even though there was snow one the ground.

"We'd better be quiet," I said. "Johnny's probably asleep,"

"Right," said Ichabod. "Oh look! A cardinal!"

"I love cardinals!" I said.

"I used to have a cardinal, but I let it go…" he said.

"Now you have me!" I ruffled his black hair.

"Yey!"

We danced around the dimly lit street. No one was out. Not even a rat.

"I have you!" he cheered.

We got inside, instantly getting quiet. Masbath was asleep on the couch. The stupid drink should have been wearing off by now.

"Maybe we should get some water."

Ichabod went and got us two glasses.

We drank the water in one gulp.

"There," I said.

"I'm very tired," Ichabod got up. "Aren't you?"

"Yes," I said, wearily.

"Come on," he said, guiding me upstairs. We went inside his old wooden room. The bed looked softer than it did earlier today. I unpacked my nightgown and put it on.

"I need to get another bed…" said Ichabod. "This one is going to be too small," his eyes grew wide. "Hey! I'll sleep one the floor,"

"No you don't have to," I said.

"Then, maybe if we sit up…"

"I've got it!" I said. "Sit here," I pointed to the spot where the bed touched the wall.

He yawned and did as directed. I got in next to him, leaning my head on his chest.

"There," I said.

"Goodnight, Katrina," he said.

I closed my eyes. "Goodnight, Ichabod,"

I tried to drift to sleep, but I was so cold! I'm sure he was to, considering the fact he didn't wear a shirt to bed! I pulled the blanket over us.

"Ichabod?" I asked.

He opened one eye.

"How do you stand winter nights?"

He smiled and put his arms around me. I instantly got warmer.

I opened one eye. The sun was shining through the window.

"Wake up," I said.

Ichabod awoke, startled.

"Hello…" he said.

"Come on," I said, pulling him out of bed. "I'll make breakfast,"

I walked downstairs to find John, still curled up on the couch. The fire was still lit, giving off warmth in the little kitchen.

Then I realized we didn't have any food.

"Ichabod?" I asked. "Where is the nearest food shop?"

He came down the steps, eyes blinking.

"Go down Main Street. Merriman's got a general store,"

"Will you be at work today, then?"

"Work…" Ichabod looked like he suddenly got a caffeine kick. "Work!" he ran back upstairs.

John woke up.

"Katrina?" he saw me. "Where are we?"

"Ichabod's house. In New York City," I said. "Don't you remember?"

John sprang up. "So it wasn't a dream!" he ran to the door. "Tell Father sir that I'm by the Merriman's!"

He ran out the door. I suspected Lissie wanted to see him.

Ichabod ran down the stairs, fully dressed, bag in hand.

"I best be off!" he said, running to the door. But he stopped and ran back to me and kissed my cheek. "Goodbye, Katrina," and then he chased after John.

Well, since the boys were gone for the day, I decided to fix up the house. I went upstairs to get a part of my father's fortune. Then, I went outside in the cold morning.

I walked down Main Street, looking for Merriman's. But, before I found his store, I saw a Milner's shop!

Just what I need!

I went inside, taking in the smell of cotton. I looked at all the pretty patterns, and lace. These were so much more ornate than the fabric back in Sleepy Hollow.

"May I help you, miss?" a man was behind the counter.

"I'm looking for curtain fabric," I said. "Do you have any?"

The man chuckled. "I have every kind you could possibly imagine!" he showed me some pretty green flowered cotton.

"This is perfect!" I said.

I went back to the house, eager to hang the new curtains up. But to my surprise, the house was not left alone.

"Katrina, where did you go?" John asked. He was sitting by the fire. "And what have you there?"

"Fabric, for curtains and a blanket. Were you cold last night?"

"Yes," he replied.

"Well then," I said, running upstairs. "I have something for you," I took the plain white blanket off the bed and came back downstairs. I threw it to John. "Here,"

"Thank you," he smiled.

I sat down on the blue toile couch. "I bet we could convert this thing into a bed,"

"How?"

"Well," I put the blanket on it, tucking it in the edges. Then I got a pillow and put it on one side. "Lay down,"

John stretched out on the new bed. "I like it!"

"I bet you're the only one in New York who gets a bed like that,"

"Thanks," he smiled.

"Now, will you help me with Ichabod's room?" I asked.

"Yes, miss!" He jumped up. "I mean, Katrina…"

We went upstairs. I realized John hadn't seen Ichabod's room before.

"Wow!" he said. "This is his room?!"

"Yes," I said.

"Where did you sleep?"

"Umm…"

I wasn't going to say I slept on Ichabod, because, well, that's weird. But I did say this: "Right there," and I pointed to his bed.

"Well where did he sleep?" he questioned.

"Umm…" I pointed at the same spot. "So!" I quickly changed the subject. "How's Lissie?"

"She's great," John smiled. "She showed me her house, and her mother made us breakfast!"

Breakfast. I didn't ever have breakfast. I was hungry.

"Johnny?" I asked. "I have an errand for you," I gave his some money. "Go to Merriman's and get some food. Maybe some spices,"

"I thought we were going to hang curtains…"

"Now, now, I'll hang them, and when you come back, you won't recognize the place!

I didn't recognize the place! It was beautiful! The green curtains warmed up the place, and the matching blanket gave the room a 'flirtatious' feeling. I loved the new look!

I heard the door open up downstairs.

"John! Look! Look!" I yelled.

Ichabod ran up the stairs.

"What the he-" he stared at the place.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I came home…Where's Young Masbath?"

"At Merriman's," I said. "What time is it?"

"Almost 6," he said. "What have you been doing all day?"

"I've been redecorating," I gestured toward the bed. "I got a new blaket, and curtains,"

"They're lovely,"

The front door swung open downstairs. I ran to greet John. He was carrying all sorts of things, like meats, bread, tea, spices, and chocolate.

The only thing better than locking lips with Ichabod is having chocolate….

Well, and something else…

"Chocolate!" I said.

John put the food in the kitchen.

"Now I can cook!" I exclaimed. "Who's hungry? I'll make you something,"

The boys smiled. They went back into the blue toile room while I cooked up something that smelled delicious. Occasionally, I caught them peeking in, trying to get a whiff of my stew.

"Alright, you two!" I said, putting soup bowls on the table. "Here you go,"

John looked like a giddy child in the candy shop when he saw a piece of chocolate on the side of his plate.

"Save that for last," I said, reaching for the stew.

"My this looks good!" Ichabod exclaimed. "Much better than what I could do,"

I was glad we were all living together. I liked being the housewife. I tried to mimic my own mother. My real mother, mind you.

"Did anything interesting happen today?" I asked.

"Well…" Ichabod started. "Nothing that is suitable for the table," he said.

"I saw Lissie," said John. "She showed me her house, and her mother made us breakfast. Then when I went to the store, her father greeted me. Lissie soon came in to ask him something, and I talked to her again,"

"Excellent!" I said.

"Does she go to school?" Ichabod asked. "I think you should go. Can you read and write?"

"Yes, sir! My father taught me to read. And Theodore once gave me a quill and said if I could write my name, he'd give me sixpence,"

"And so you wrote your name?" I asked.

"Yes," John frowned. "Theodore couldn't believe it, and said he didn't have sixpence,"

Stupid Theodore. Hmp! To think I was going to ask him out…

John went to bed. I went upstairs to brush my hair. Ichabod looked tired. He laid down on the new blanket.

I turned away from the mirror. "Tell me what happened today,"

"I had forgotten what a sad job I had left here," he said. "How cruelly they treat the prisoners…"

"What happened?" I said, sitting by him.

"A boy, of nine or ten, was caught stealing a tomato from a cart," he said, wearily sitting up. "He was brought to the courthouse. There they charged him with burglary, and sentenced him to a life in prison,"

"Who would do such a thing?"

"The judge is old. He is unfair. And for some time now, I have been trying to replace him,"

He told me of the troubles he has had with the legal system. Apparently, they still continue to use medieval devices of torture…

"It would be great to be a judge," he continued. "I would rely on evidence, and not opinion,"

"With all sense or reason," I said, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

"And justice," he smiled. "Things that need to be changed in this new century,"

"I am sure you can save New York after saving Sleepy Hollow,"

"I'm going to lose sleep over this…"

"I'll stay up with you," I offered.

He pulled me close. "Alright,"

I think I fell asleep before he did. I did not remember him going downstairs to make tea. I do remember the dream I had though. It was of Ichabod, and a water gun…

And when I woke up, he was still sleeping. I did not wake him. Instead, I went downstairs to make eggs.

John was up, and he wanted to go to school. But we needed to get him enrolled first.

I was hungry, so I made three eggs and sprinkled cheese in them.

John liked it. Soon, Ichabod came downstairs, groggy from lack of sleep.

"Is that egg I smell?" he went to the table.

"Taking the day off?" I asked.

"They gave me the day off," he said. "Thought I needed a break, so I could let you two get your bearings straight. City life is more complicated that simple town life,"

Sleepy Hollow? Simple? I almost sprayed water all over the table. (I should have.)

"I like the city!" said John. "It's so busy! I want to go to school!"

"School's in mid session, but maybe I could pull a few strings and get you an apprenticeship with Merriman," Ichabod said.

John's eyes got wide. "Really?"

"We'll stop by,"

"So when will you get married?" John asked.

Ichabod looked at me. "Uhh…"

"How about in the spring! When there are flowers, and birds!" I exclaimed.

"I love springtime!" said John. "I liked hunting with my father,"

"Cardinals are the best!" I said.


	2. Memories

Cardinals. A beautiful bird. I remembered the day when I had first spotted a cardinal back in Sleepy Hollow. That was the day I had fallen for Ichabod.

The whole month of November was very confusing:

**Flashback-October 29th**

It all began that fateful night. I was making myself a new dress when my father burst through the door. My father. A rich, prosperous farmer. Not at all handsome, but had a good sense of humor.

"Peter Van Garret is dead!" he shrieked.

I dropped my sewing needle.

"Are you serious?" I asked.

"See for yourself!" my father led me out of our house, into the stormy night. We passed the barn, and the Milner's shop, approaching a crowd of panic-stricken townsmen.

"He was killed!" someone shouted.

"Head's gone!" yelled another.

"Who could have done this?" a woman cried.

"The Hessian's back!" they all shrieked.

The Hessian. I knew all about him. My mum used to tell me the ghost stories. He'd ride through the night, chopping off heads wherever he pleased. But finally, his end came during the winter of '79. The patriots captured him, and took his head with his own sword. He was then buried in the Western Woods.

I thought the story was a ruse to keep us kids from venturing too far away. But when I pushed myself through the crowd, and saw Van Garret lying there, head missing, I knew that the stupid Hessian soldier was back.

Then next morning, I heard his name for the first time.

"Constable Ichabod Crane," my step mum said at breakfast. "He'll be the one investigating the murder."

Ichabod Crane. I imagined a scruffy, old, ugly man with tiny, droopy eyes hunching over the body.

"He's coming all the way from New York City," Father exclaimed.

"New York?" I asked. I'd never been outside of Sleepy Hollow. But so badly have I dreamed of going to New York someday. Perhaps to get married…

My thoughts were interrupted by a knocking. My father answered the door.

It was Brom Bones. I quickly got up from the table to greet him.

"Katrina," he said, in his deep, manly voice. He turned to my father. "May I take her out today?"

My father nodded and smiled.

I gulped. I knew that smile. It was the one that warned everyone that he had a bad joke on the tip of his tongue.

"Don't let the horseman get you down."

But my father wasn't finished.

"And keep your head about it,"

Now he was.

Brom laughed.

I didn't. "Thank you, Father," I kissed his cheek and took Brom's arm.

We headed down the dirt street, not looking back to see if my father was chasing after us as he always does. Honestly, he must learn to leave us alone. Forget it. He never will. He's too old. And time and again has he said that you cannot teach and old dog new tricks. For once, he was right.

I focused myself on Brom. He was tall and handsome. All the girls in Sleepy Hollow were terribly jealous of me. I felt like skipping.

"You are very pretty this morning," Brom said.

"Thank you," I leaned my head on his shoulder. So what if it wasn't comfortable? I saw Miller's snooty daughter out of the corner of my eye! She rolled her eyes at us. I smiled back sweetly.

"Would you like to have a pick nick?" I asked him.

"That sounds nice," he replied.

We crossed the bridge. A nice hill with flowers was up ahead. But that wasn't why we were going that way.

There was also an old windmill up the path. It was perfect for hiding from Father.

I came home late that night. My hair was a fright. I hope my step mum wouldn't rat me out. Sarah, the servant girl, met me inside.

"It's almost eleven, miss!" she whispered.

"I know,"

"Out with Brom again, eh?"

I nodded. I had long ago told her about our secret place, and of all the fun we've had there. But I was always back by dinner.

"Don't tell father," I said, looking around, realizing we were the only one's in the house. "Where is he?"

"Widow Winship was killed," Sarah muttered.

My eyes grew wide.

"What?" I choked.

"Head's gone too. Taken by the headless horseman, I reckon,"

The world was spinning. I fainted.

I woke up in the morning, finding myself in bed. My step mum was stoking the fire.

"You were gone last night," she told me. "Where were you?"

"I…I…" I stuttered. "I was with Brom, and we lost track of time…" "Really…" my step mum sounded annoyed. "How?"

"We…um…" I remembered the news about the widow. "We had heard about the widow!" I sat up. "So we went to investigate…and…well…"

"Sad, isn't it?" she said. "Magistrate Phillips actually cried."

When doesn't the fatty cry?

"Really?"

"He ran off the scene, hankie in hand,"

"Will we still have the party?"

My step mum turned around. "Of course!"

I smiled. We had been planning this party for months, in honor of All Hallow's Eve. I loved the Fall.

"The Pickety Witch! The Pickety Witch! Who's got a kiss for the Pickety Witch?" I was blindfolded, standing in a circle of men. We were all playing a game. It was a bit childish, but how many times do you get to kiss people other than your boyfriend? The Pickety Witch is my favorite game.

"The Pickety Witch! The Pickety Witch! Who's got a kiss for the Pickety Witch?" I lunged foreword, grabbing someone's face. I felt it. It was soft and smooth, unlike Brom's. This person's nose wasn't like Brom's either. And his lips were thinner…

"Is it Theodore?" I guessed, hoping that it wasn't.

If you guess wrong, you get to kiss them.

"No miss, for I am only a stranger," the anonymous guy said.

I smiled. "Then have a kiss on account," I had to stand on my tiptoes to reach him. I missed however, getting him just short of the lips. Who was he?

I untied my blindfold, opening my eyes and looking at my random guy.

HE WAS HIDEOUS!

Just kidding.

Actually, he was hotter than the sun god! He had black hair that swept to the side of his face. His dark eyes drew me in, like a kid in the candy store. I fought the urge to pull him into the next room.

"I...um, I am looking for Baltus Van Tassel." he said. His voice was timid.

"I'm his daughter. Katrina Van Tassel," I said, smiling.

Brom quickly came over to us. "And who are you, friend? We have not heard your name yet." he said defensively.

"I have not said it…." said the random hot guy.

Brom grabbed the stranger's collar, anger in his eyes. "You need some manners!"

"Brom!" I said.

"Come, come! We want no raised voices," my father came to the rescue. "It is only to raise the spirits during this dark time that I and my dear wife are giving this little party…" he turned to my random guy. "Young sir, you are welcome," he trailed off. "Even if you are selling something…"

Brom smoothed out the guy's collar and smiled quickly.

"Thank you, sir." he nodded at my father, then Brom. "I am Constable Ichabod Crane, sent to you from New York with authority to investigate murder in Sleepy Hollow." he handed my father a piece of parchment.

"Then, Sleepy Hollow is grateful to you, Constable Crane." My step mum replied. "I hope you will honor this house by remaining with us until…"

"Until you've made the arrest!" finished Brom.

" Well spoke!" my father gestured toward his office. "Come, sir. We'll get you settled."

Everyone was staring at them.

My father looked at the musicians. "Play on!"

I stood there, in the middle of the men, thinking about the mysterious constable. Brom stood behind me. He had his hands wrapped around me.

"Your father's gone," he whispered.

We made out in the middle of the circle of men.

"That new constable is quite clumsy," my stepmother said.

I sat in front of the mirror. She was brushing my hair, counting the strokes.

"Well, I'm disappointed," I said. "Our first visitor from New York!"

There was a knock.

"I hear he doesn't know where to put himself and his feet are all over the place!" I continued.

My step mum gave me the hairbrush and went to the door.

"Yes, not like your Brom," she replied. "Go on brushing, I got to forty-two." she opened the door to Sarah.

"That constable, he wants the Bible, Mum…"

"Bible...?"

"I'll bring it to him." I said. "We'll see if his city talk fits him better than his clothes."

Sarah curtsied and left.

Ichabod sat surrounded by his books, including his Ledger.

"Yes, yes, come in," he said.

I entered his messy room, carrying the Bible. He didn't even bother to turn around.

"Thank you, just leave it on the reading stand," he said.

I put down the Bible as told.

"That will be all," he paused, still not turning around. "No, tell me about that big brute who seems to be Miss Katrina's…" he turned in his chair, seeing me and my scowl. Ichabod looked like he had a minor convulsion, standing up, knocking papers to the floor, etc.

"Forgive me, I...I asked Sarah to bring me…"

"So your clever books have failed you and you turn to the Bible after all!" I laughed.

"I see I am talked about downstairs," he said coolly.

"In passing only," I looked at him. "We have many things to talk about even in this backward place."

"I am sorry... Please excuse my manner," he looked down. "I am not used to…"

"Female company?"

"Society." he added quickly.

"How can you avoid society in New York? How I should love the opera, and theaters, to go dancing... Is it wonderful?"

"I have never been."

"But there is an art museum? A concert hall?" I asked.

"I don't know,"

"Then you have nothing to teach me," I frowned.

"Perhaps I have." he looked back up. "Do you believe the Van Garretts and the Widow Winship were murdered by a headless horseman?"

"Not everyone here believes it is the Horseman,"

"Good," he turned around.

"Some say it is the witch of the Western Woods who has made a pact with Lucifer," I had to say it…

"There are no witches, or galloping ghosts either! Is everyone in this village in thrall to superstition?" he was annoyed.

"Why are you so frightened of magic?! Not all magic is black. There are ancient truths in these woods which have been forgotten in your city parks,"

"If they are truths they are not magic, and if magic, not truth."

"You are foolish. When there is fever in the house, it is well known that willow-herb roots and a crow's foot must be boiled in the milk of a pure white goat with special charms uttered over the fire...and the fever abates."

"Next time try the herb without the rest," he sighed. "And now I must ask you, excuse me,"

"Gladly. I should not have interrupted our town's savior. Good night." I turned to leave, but stopped. "And as to your first question, that big brute you were asking about has proposed to me," I smiled.

"I...I...I'm happy that…"

"Proposed to me several times," I added, and turned out, leaving little Ichabod tormented by my beauty.

A lot happened during the next few weeks. I found myself strangely falling for the constable. Brom had got suspicious.

As soon as I got word of another murder, I ran downstairs.

Ichabod was lying in bed, terrified at the sight of me.

"It was a headless horseman!" he shouted.

"I know, I know," said my father.

"You don't know because you were not there!"

"I told you, everyone told you,"

Ichabod looked at me. "I…saw him," he tried to smile, but his eyes rolled up and he fainted.

Later that night, I entered his room.

Ichabod was seated by the warm fire. His hands were wrapped with bloodied cloth.

"Constable?" I said.

"Allow me some time," he said, not turning to me. "I have spent every hour in the company of others. I need to be alone,"

"What troubles you?" I went to him.

Ichabod got up and crossed to sit facing away from me.

"The things I said to you before... I was wrong to say them," I went on.

"No, actually, you were not. Every word you spoke had truth in it,"

"What has happened?"

Ichabod sat silent, and put his head back, eyes closed. "Lady Van Tassel... she is your stepmother, isn't she?"

How the hell did he figure that one out?

"What?" I asked.

"She bears so little resemblance. She is not your birth mother, is she?"

"No, but... why do you ask that?"

"What happened to your mother? Is she still alive?" he asked.

"She died. Her lungs were diseased... two years ago. What is this about?"

"Memories I had forgotten, and would not like to remember…Lord, how I hate this place."

"If you want me to go, I will," I got up to go.

He didn't say anything.

"Do you want me to leave?" I asked again.

"I... I do not know," he said. "I no longer know what I think or what I feel," he looked like a sick puppy. I swear it was those dark eyes.

I walked to him and touched his back.

"Why are you so afraid of that?" I asked. "Is there truly such harm in uncertainty? I reached to touch his face, and held his head in my hands. Then I leaned to kiss him.

"Do you enjoy casting spells on constables?" he whispered.

"Do not tell Brom,"

He rested his head against mine, weary, putting his arms around me. And finally, our lips met for the first time.

Days went by.

I locked myself in my room, not answering for anyone; not even Sarah. I drew pictures of many random things in the back of my books. But soon my books were filled.

I sighed and decided to show myself. I crept downstairs and snuck into the library. I pulled out one of my mother's books. I sat down and started to read it.

The door opened.

I gasped, and turned around. There was Ichabod, standing there like a startled puppy. "Oh...pardon my intrusion...I saw a light…" he started to turn around.

"It is no intrusion," I said. "I come here to read when I am wakeful."

"To read books which you must hide...?" he asked.

"They were my mother's books...my father frowned at them. He believes tales of romance caused the brain fever that killed my mother. She died two years ago come midwinter."

Ichabod nodded. "I saw it written in the front of the Bible."

"The nurse who cared for her during her sickness is now Lady Van Tassel."

"There was something else too. Why did no one think to mention that Van Garretts are kith and kin to the Van Tassels?"

"Why, because there is hardly a household in Sleepy Hollow that is not connected to every other by blood or marriage. I have more cousins than fingers and toes to count them on,"

"Really?"

"Yes,"

He came over to the couch.

"Mind if I sit?"

"Sure," I moved over, putting the book on the table.

Ichabod carefully sat down this time, not tripping over himself.

"So, have you got any leads?" I asked.

"None whatsoever,"

"Oh, that's a shame," I said, scooting closer.

He looked at me. "Where's Brom?" he asked.

"I don't know. Out, I guess,"

"Pardon my questioning, but…" he looked around. "Did something happen?"

"Oh," I looked out the window. "Love is so complicated some times."

"Ahhh,"

"Have you ever been in love?"

Ichabod looked as if he'd seen a ghost.

"Umm…" he started.

So he did like me! I knew it! God, if I would have known sooner, I'd have dumped Brom ages ago!

"Well…" he still stuttered.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said, pretending to bend down to get something, causing my dress to sink further down.

Ichabod gulped.

Bend and snap, works every time.

"We don't have to talk about your love affairs," I was working my magic. "A handsome constable like you must have had many girlfriends back in New York,"

"No, no," he shook his head. I think he was sweating. My plan was working. He was so nervous! Or hot…literally.

"Really…" I scooted even closer. If I went further, I'd be sitting on his lap. Looking back now, I think I should have…

He stayed put, which surprised me. He seemed more of the shy type. Wait till I got my hand in his…

He stood up.

SHY GUY!

"Forgive me," he said, startled. "I must leave now!" he ran out, knocking over books and other random things off the shelf. He turned around, and tried to pick them up, but caused more items to fall.

I covered my smile with my mother's book. Ichabod made me laugh, unlike any other guy in Sleepy Hollow.

"The Magistrate, Philipse, is dead," cried my father.

"What?" I asked in disbelief.

"He and the constable were attacked last night!"

"Ichabod?!"

My father looked at me with concern. "I see you two have talked…"

Oh no! Was my father suspecting something? I hope not!

"Is he alright?!" I shrieked.

"That young lad? A bit scared, but perfectly healthy…"

"I have to talk to him!" I ran to his room again. My father chased after me.

Ichabod pulled the covers over his face. He looked terrified.

"It was a headless horseman!" he cried.

"You must not excite yourself," my father warned.

"But it was Headless Horseman!"

"Of course it was,"

"No, you must believe me, it was Horseman! A dead one! Headless!"

"I know, I know,"

"You don't know because you were not there!" he looked at me. "It's all true!"

"Of course it is. I told you! Everyone told you!"

I nodded.

"I…saw him," Ichabod smiled, and his eyes rolled in the back of his head. He fainted.

"Guess it's back to the City for him…" said my father.

"Ichabod," I knocked on the door.

"What?" I heard him.

"Will you please face your fears and come out?"

The door opened.

"Katrina?"

"Listen," I said. "You have heard the tales of the Hessian now. What do you find it so hard to believe them?"

"I am not one for ghost stories," he shook his head. "My childhood was a ghost story,"

"What happened?" I asked.

"Horrors," he turned around. "I do not wish to talk about them,"

"Then what would you like to talk about?"

Ichabod thought. "You have grown up with the tales, and you are not shocked to find them true,"

"When one has heard stories forever, naturally, they seem to believe them,"

Ichabod thought about my statement.

"Brom's dead,"

"What-?" I stared at Sarah.

"Your Brom. He's been killed,"

I gasped. I know we broke up and everything, but he actually died?!

"NOOO!" I screamed and ran to my room. What was I to do? I thought about the constable. ICHABOD! Where the hell was he? I had too know!

I ran to his room to find him lying in bed, surrounded by Doctor Lancaster, my father, and step mother.

"No, no, no!" he shouted. "The horseman doesn't kill at random!"

I went downstairs to make him a potion. One that he didn't believe would ever work.

I brought it back to him, pushing myself through the small crowd. His shirt was torn open, revealing a stab mark on his shoulder.

As soon as he saw me, he started hyperventilating.

"I tried to stop Brom! I did! But he wouldn't listen!" he gasped.

"Shhh," I patted him. "Drink this down, it'll make you sleep,"

"The horseman does not kill at random! His victims are chosen for him, by the one who has his head!"

"These are ravings!" whispered my father.

"Shhh…" I said, lifting the potion to his lips. One sip, and he was out.

The doctor, along with my father and step mum left the room.

I stayed, sitting on his bed and pushed his black hair out of his eyes. They remained shut. I kept my arm around him. He felt so cold. I sat up and fetched him a blanket. Then I sat at the end of the bed for God knows how long, thinking about if I should ask him out. Maybe Theodore instead…

Ichabod gasped and shot up, falling on top of me.

"Shhh…" I whispered, hugging him. "You were dreaming."

"Yes...things I had forgotten and would like not to remember,"

I noticed his hands were bleeding. Pressure stops bleeding. I put pressure on his hands by holding them.

He looked at me.

"Tell me what you dreamt," I whispered.

"How I found my mother dead," he started. "How good and evil sometimes wear each other's clothes. She was an innocent, a child of nature, condemned...murdered...by my father…"

"Murdered by?"

"Murdered to save her soul! By a Bible-Black tyrant behind a mask of righteousness. I was seven when I lost my faith,"

"What do you believe in, Ichabod?"

" Sense and reason, cause and consequence, an ordered universe... Oh lord, I should not have come to this place where my rational mind has been so controverted by the spirit world…"

" Is there nothing you will take from Sleepy Hollow that was worth the coming here?"

"No...not nothing. A kiss, from a lovely woman before she saw my face or knew my name,"

"Without sense or reason…" I was totally asking Ichabod out! Screw Theodore!

"Forgive me, I speak of kisses when you have lost your brave man Brom,"

I thought about that one. "I have shed my tears for Brom, and yet my heart is still not broken." I looked at his enchanting eyes. "Do you think me wicked?"

"No," he shook his head. "But, perhaps there is a bit of a witch in you, Katrina."

"Why do you say that?" I asked innocently.

"Because you have bewitched me,"

Plain. Simple. Endearing words. HA! We were alone for Lucifer's sake! I kissed him again.

Ichabod wrapped his arms around me. And the next thing that happened was horrible.

The door opened.

I opened my eyes finding Sarah standing in the doorway, holding a pitcher of water.

"What is this?" she asked.

Ichabod fainted.

"Umm…" I pushed Ichabod's limp body away. "Nothing! What is it, Sarah?"

The servant girl looked mortified. She gave me a good long stare. "I'll talk to you later, miss," she curtsied and left, closing the door. I poured water all over Ichabod's face.

He awakened.

"I'm sorry…" I said, standing up. "I shouldn't have-"

"No, no, it was my fault," he stood up too. "Forgive me,"

I smiled, making him relax. I had pushed things to far, and now we were caught by on of my best friends. Sarah, the servant girl. She'd never ratted me out for losing virginity to Brom, but would she tattle on the mysterious constable sent from New York? I hope not.

Brom. I was so sad for him. I started to cry.

"What's wrong?"

"He actually died! Brom was actually killed!"

"Shh…" he pulled me close.

I don't know what I was feeling. I was so saddened by death. Especially if it was a death of the most popular guy in Sleepy Hollow. And it was, so I cried even harder.

"I just cannot believe it!" I cried. "Promise me something,"

"What?" he touched a piece of my hair.

"Don't you ever die!"

He took my hand. "We cannot control what happens to our life, but we can control how to live it,"

I still remember those words, and I shall never forget them.

But then he gasped, clutching his shoulder. He fell back down on the bed.

"You must be quite tough, to undergo such peril," I lay down next to him. "Does it hurt?"

"Yes, very much," he turned his head towards mine. "I will try to forget about it though."

I put my hand on his chest. "You are hot,"

"Fever does that to you,"

"Without the fever," I smiled. He defiantly put the 'bod' in 'Ichabod.'

We lied there like that for a very long time, not moving, just trying to figure each other out by staring into each other's eyes. Then he finally made a move; right as my father and step mum decided to waltz in.

"GASP!" cried my father. "Katrina Ann Van Tassel!"

Oh no! Shoot! Stupid Lucifer! I had to explain myself very carefully…

"KATRINA! EXPLAIN YOURSELF VERY CAREFULLY!" he yelled.

See?

I sat up. I had to come up with a story, fast! So, I did.

"Father, have you read Sleeping Beauty?" I asked sweetly.

"Your mother loved that story,"

"Well," I got up and started pacing back and forth, explaining myself very carefully. "As you know, Aurora was asleep, so the prince came and kissed her awake,"

"Where are you going with this?" asked my step mum.

"Well as you know, our constable was asleep, and the sooner he gets better, the sooner he will solve the murder mysteries!"

"Excellent, Katrina! Good thinking!" my father smiled.

"Not so fast!" my step mum prodded. She turned to my lover. "Ichabod, is this true?"

He smiled. "Every last bit,"

"The lad must be telling the truth," Father opened the door. "And truth's good enough for me." he looked at my step mum. "Come, dear."

She gave me an evil scowl and took my father's arm, shutting the door again.

We were alone again.

"Who else could intrude?" Ichabod asked.

"Young Masbath?" I asked.

"Hopefully not," he tried to laugh, but gasped in pain, clutching his shoulder again.

"You should rest," I said, sitting on the end of the bed. "The fever's within you,"

"I cannot rest until I save your city," said my superhero.

"You can, and you will," I ordered. "You won't be able to use chain of reasoning with an unclear mind,"

"My mind is clear," he argued.

"Really?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, sitting up.

"Are you so sure of everything?"

"Yes,"

I had to find out, so for the third time, we made out. What? He was so irresistibly hot!

"Now my mind is unclear," he said.

"I must go, before we are suspected," I said, walking towards the door.

"Wait!" Ichabod was sitting up again.

I turned around.

"When will I see you again?" he asked nervously.

"I will sneak in here tonight," I whispered.

"Alright," he smiled, and tried to sleep.

"Mind me for askin' miss," Sarah was pretending to make my bed. She always pretended to do something when she wanted to talk. "Are you in love with that constable?"

"Shhh…" I said. "I do not want anyone else to know!"

"So it is true!" Sarah smiled. "He's handsome, he is, miss."

"We're planning something tonight," I smiled.

"Lucky you!"

"Do you like him?" I asked.

"No! Of course not!" she said, coming closer. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Of course,"

"I'm having an affair with the doctor," she whispered.

"What!?" I asked, startled.

"SHHHH!" she said.

"That old geezer?" I whispered.

"He promised to make me rich," she said. "But that was months ago,"

"When was he planning?"

"I don't know, miss," she hung her head. "I think he's using me,"

"Oh no!" I said. "Are you-"

"With child?" she laughed. "Silly! Silly!" she left my room.

I still think she was pregnant.

I knocked on his door. It was late. All of the others were sleeping. The moon was the only light in the house. It chilled me; but maybe that was because I was wearing my nightgown…

I heard the door unlock. It creaked open, showing candlelight, revealing Ichabod's face.

"Shhh…" he said, pulling me inside. His hair was messy and he wore no shirt. I have never seen this Ichabod before. It was hot. He shut the door. A small candle was sitting on his desk, lighting up a small part of his room.

"Katrina," he said. "I have missed you so,"

Teeheehee, he missed me.

"And I, you,"

He sat down on his bed. I sat next to him.

"Tell me, Miss Van Tassel," he said jokingly. "Why did you actually come to my room?"

"I want to make passionate love!"

He laughed.

I was serious….

"You make me smile, Katrina Van Tassel,"

"I try," I replied. "My father tells me I should be a comedian like he is…He's not at all funny though,"

"He can be, at times," he leaned his head on mine. "What's your favorite color?"

"Favorite color?" I laughed.

"Well yes," he said. "Is that not what lovers do? Ask each other little things for future reference?"

"Well," I trailed off. Lovers. We are lovers. That thought made me smile. I never liked anyone this much before. It was starting to become a fairytale.

"I'll tell you what lovers do," I started. "They love each other for who they are, not what they wear or who their father is,"

"My father's dead," he said.

"And they stand by each other, through thick and thin,"

"They sit by each other too," he put his arm around me.

"And they kiss,"

He kissed me.

"And they sleep together," I said, pulling him back. "And they have good times together."

"I see…" he whispered, pushing the hair out of my face.

The candle light flickered. I hope it went out.

It dimmed a bit.

"Forgive me, but I've never…" he admitted.

"I'll show you," I said, unlacing my nightgown.

The candle flickered, and went out.

_Ichabod…Stay with me…and never let go…_

I woke up.

Ware was I? Strong arms were around me. OH NO!

I shook Ichabod awake.

"What?"

"I have to get out of here!" I looked out the window. The sun was rising! I had to get back to my room! Oh, what if Sarah caught me? I'm screwed! (Both literally and figuratively)

I went into panic mode.

"Your father will kill you!"

"Actually, my father wouldn't mind," I said. "'Tis my stepmother I fear,"

"Oh,"

I quickly ran back to my room.

"Naughty, naughty!" someone said.

Sarah was sitting on my untouched bed. Shoot! I should have turned the covers down!

"Sarah, please,"

Sarah smiled and laughed. "Miss, I'll never rat you out!"

"Thank you,"

"So was it fun? Tell me everything!"

"Well," I started, pulling up my nightgown. "We…um…"

"I figured," Sarah got up. "You are horrible!"

"I know…" I rolled my eyes.

"That's so cool!"

"I know,"

"And now what will you do?" she leaned closer. "Or, should I say: Who?"

"Him, again," I replied. "Maybe…"

"Well, miss, good luck with this one," She turned to leave. "Better get started on breakfast, for Lady Van Tassel would get mad at me," she laughed and closed the door.

"Sarah," I shook my head and got into my own bed, pretending to be asleep.

"Where's Ichabod?" I asked. My stepmother was sitting at the breakfast table.

"He left early this morning," she replied.

"Where did he go?"

"I do not know." My stepmother gave me the look. "Why are you so suddenly interested in the constable's whereabouts?"

"I'm not," I lied. "It just seems so quiet this morning,"

"Maybe it's because the servant girl, Sarah, has vanished,"

"What?" I almost choked. "Sarah? Where did she go?"

"Ran away…Like so many others," My stepmother had a worried look on her face. "They are all leaving in fear,"

"Who else has left?"

"The Millers,"

I could not help but rejoice in my mind. I hated the snooty Miller girl. I'm glad she finally left.

"And Theodore Van Ripper," she added.

"Theodore?"

My stepmother rose from the table. "The Van Burn's are going to be next. I saw them packing last night,"

"But why?"

"After the Hessian assassinated the Killian family, everyone's been thinking they will be next,"

I gulped. That poor boy, Thomas. Only five or six I reckon. And his mother, the midwife. How could anyone, even the headless horseman kill such an innocent family?

"How terrible," I muttered, and went back upstairs.

A good time to investigate someone's room is when they're out investigating themselves. So, I decided I would investigate Ichabod's room. I had nothing else better to do, and maybe he knew something I didn't.

I opened his door. His room was very messy. Papers with little black handwriting were scattered all over the floor. I picked one up.

Reverend Steenwick?

What did he have to do with anything?

I picked up another.

Notary Hardenbrook?

Doctor Lancaster?

Magistrate Philipse?

The town elders?

I looked for the one that had my father's name on it. But surprisingly, there was no such paper.

I went to Ichabod's desk. I saw something that made me smile, but then to my surprise, the door creaked open.

"Katrina, why are you in my room?"

I turned around. There he was, along with Young Masbath.

"Because it is yours," I stood up. "Was it wicked of me?"

"No, not at all…"

I walked to him.

"I missed you," I said, quickly kissing him. "Where did you go?"

"To the Notary…" he looked at Young Masbath. "I had questions to ask Hardenbrook,"

"And did you find anything of interest?"

Ichabod looked at Young Masbath again. "Perhaps…"

"My father-"

"You're father?" he jumped.

"Yes," I said. "My father wishes you to return to New York…"

"Really?" he asked, coming closer. "Why's that?"

"I don't know…" I looked at his desk. "Perhaps he found your ledger, and did not like what he saw,"

Ichabod looked at his open ledger. The name Katrina was written many times in the middle of the page.

Ichabod quickly closed the book.

I smiled again.

Ichabod shook his head and put some papers in his drawer.

"What have you there?" I asked.

"Evidence," he replied. "Now, I must ask you to-"

"Then I'll leave you to you thoughts," I said, going out the door. But I looked back at the drawer before leaving.

I walked to my own room. I had to get those papers. I wanted to find out what Ichabod found at the Notary's.

It was late, and Ichabod and Masbath were out yet again. So, naturally, I searched the desk drawer.

"Ahh, here we are," I whispered to myself, pulling out the papers. I leafed through them.

"What?" I almost dropped them.

It was Old Van Garrett's original will! And it was signed by Jonathan Masbath! And what was this?! A marriage certificate with Old Van Garrett and Widow Winship's names scrawled in the blanks!

"They were secretly married…"

Now I came across Ichabod's own handwriting.

Baltus Van Tassel next of kin

"What?" I looked back at the will. My eyes grew wide.

The will stated that Dirk Van Garrett would get everything in the event of his father's death.

But Dirk died with his father.

So, if Dirk was dead, everything would go to Widow Winship.

But she was killed to.

So legally, everything would pass to the next of kin.

My father.

"Burn! Burn!" I yelled, throwing the papers into the fire.

Then I heard hoof beats.

I turned around to see Gunpowder and Ichabod; though I'm not sure who was leading who.

"Katrina,"

I turned around.

"You took the evidence and burned it,"

"So that you would not happen to accuse my father,"

"I accuse no one!" he walked toward the fire. "But if there is guilt, I cannot let it alter it!" he stopped. "No matter how much it grieves me…"

He looked at the fire again.

"And no spells of yours can alter it either. Your father has the motive. It is he who stands to profit from these murders,"

"If you knew him, you would not have such harsh thoughts about him,"

He looked at me.

"No! Nor if you felt anything for me…"

"I am beaten by a chain of reasoning! Why else did his four friends conspire to conceal-"

"You are the constable, not I. So find another chain of reasoning and let me be,"

"I cannot. Not one or the other…and I am heartsick with it,"

"I think you have no heart…And I had the mind once to give you mine…"

"Yes," he said, stepping closer. "I think you loved me that day when you followed me into the western woods. To brave such peril…"

"What peril is their for me if it is my own father who controls the headless horseman!" I stomped off to my horse. "Good bye, Ichabod Crane. I curse the day you came to Sleepy Hollow!" I reared, and galloped away.

He stood there and watched me leave.

I cried.

And cried.

And thought about him.

And the stupid Hessian who caused all of this.

But then I thought, if it weren't for the Hessian, Ichabod wouldn't be here.

I would have never met him.

Or fell in love.

Which made me hate the stupid Hessian more.

"Katrina?"

The door opened.

Lady Van Tassel.

"Dear, what is wrong?"

"Nothing," I said. My lip quivered. "Nothing!" I burst out crying again.

"Oh now, Katrina, what happened?"

"I don't want to see Ichabod's face ever again!"

"Why not?"

"Men!" I huffed. "And their stupidity!"

"Come downstairs and talk with me," she comforted. "I'm making stew,"

"I will not come down! I will stay right here!"

"Alright," she got up. "By the way, the constable's not down there yet,"

"I don't care…"

"Suit yourself…" she closed my door.

_Oh how I hate this cursed town! _I looked out the window.

My father wrapped on my door.

"Katrina? Rev. Steenwick called a meeting at the church house in an hour. Come out and join us."

Being a fellow citizen of Sleepy Hollow, I took pride in all the meetings and gatherings. But tonight, I really didn't want to go.

"I'm coming," I replied. I heard him leave. His heavy footsteps pervaded the hall.

I love my father.

There was a storm. I got inside the church just before the first drops of rain fell. Everyone was rushing in. Even Ichabod. Ugg.

But to my supprise, over the thunder, I heard my father from outside.

"The Horseman!" he cried. "The horseman saved me!"

I ran outside.

"Father!"

He ran towards me. "The horseman killed her! The horseman killed your stepmother!"

My eyes grew wide.

"What?"

But before my father could reply, thunder boomed. A shadowy figure rode down the street.

"Here he comes!" people shouted, and shoved themselves into the church.

Some people with guns bravely tried to shoot the horseman.

Meanwhile, inside the church, women and children were screaming their heads off. (No pun intended…) The men were breaking windows trying to shoot from inside. The church became a revolutionary battlefield in seconds.

Rev. Steenwick grabbed my father.

"You'll kill us all!" he choked him. "You're the one the horseman wants!"

But that's all I could remember, for I felt myself being pulled to the ground. My eyes closed, while my left finger began drawing on the wooden floor.

I snapped out of it, just in time to see my father shot Steenwick with a gun. He was backing up the steps to the alter, screaming at everyone to stay back.

"There is a conspiracy here! And I wish to seek it out!" he yelled. Everyone stopped franticly screaming and wrecking havoc. They all turned to my father.

I looked back and saw Ichabod.

I do not know how to describe what in Satin's name happened next.

Basically I screamed at the sight of my skewered father and ran up the steps.

My father shot through the window, like a marionette controlled by a demonic puppeteer. He was dragged by the horseman in the most brutal way. But the fence post caught him. The horseman turned around and bared his sword. My father looked up.

_WHOOSH!_

My father had finally lost his head.

I fainted.

All I remember was a cold hand on mine, and a faint "Goodbye Katrina," echoing in my mind.

When I opened my eyes, he was gone. Forever.

I went to the window to see the coach pull away. Young Masbath sat on the front porch, looking as if he were about to cry.

I walked in a daze to a chair.

_Ichabod…Ichabod… Stay with me…don't ever let go…_

"Dear stepdaughter,"

I turned around staring at the spirit of my stepmother.

"You look as if you've seen a ghost," she laughed. My eyes rolled up, and I fainted.

"Awake at last. Did you think it was all a nasty dream? Alas, no," my stepmother was by the fire.

"My father saw the Horseman kill you," I said.

"He saw the Horseman with his sword unsheathed! But it is I who govern the Horseman, my dear, and Baltus did not stay to watch,"

"But there was a body!"

"The servant girl, Sarah," she laughed. "I always thought her useless, but she turned, out useful. Tomorrow I'll totter out of the woods and spin a tale how I found Baltus and Sarah in the act of lust...as I watched, the Horseman was upon them, and off went Sarah's head! I fainted and remember nothing more…"

"Who are you?" I asked.

"My name was Archer,"

"The archer?" I asked, remembering the carving in the fire back.

"I lived with my father and mother and my sister in a gamekeeper's cottage not far from here... Until one day, my father died, and the landlord who received many years of loyal service from my parents... evicted us. No one in this God- fearing town would take us in... ...because my mother was suspected of witchcraft... She was no witch, but I believe she knew much that lies under the surface of life...and she schooled her daughters well while we lived as outcasts in the Western Woods. She died within a year...and my sister and I remained in our refuge, seeing not a soul...until, gathering firewood one day, we crossed the path of the Hessian...I saw his death, and from that moment... ...I offered my soul to Satan if he would raise the Hessian from the grave to avenge me,"

"Avenge you?"

"Against Van Garrett, who evicted my family, against Baltus Van Tassel who, with simpering wife and girl child, stole our home. I swore I would make myself mistress of all they had…"she laughed. "The easiest part was the first: to enter your house as your mother's sick nurse and put her body into the grave, and my own into the marriage bed,"

I gasped.

"Not quite so easy was to secure my legacy...but lust delivered Reverend Steenwyck into my power. Fear did the same for the Notary Hardenbrook. The drunken Philipse succumbed for a share of the proceeds, and the Doctor's silence I exchanged for my complicity in his fornications with the servant girl, Sarah…"

I noticed Masbath in the corner.

"Yes, you have everything now…" I said, keeping her attention.

"No, my dear, you do, by your father's will. But I get everything in the event of your death," she gritted her teeth.

I grew frantic. Now she was going to kill me!

She turned around to see Masbath, holding a mallet.

"Yey! You are just in time to have your head cut off!" my evil stepmother went to grab him, but he ran towards me, like I was his mother or something…

"Come on!" I said. "Let's get out of here!" we ran out the windmill's door.

"The Horseman comes!" we heard. "And tonight he comes for you!"

We got outside just to find…that it was raining again.

No, to see Ichabod running toward us!

Now, if this weren't a matter of life and death, I would have slapped him for coming back.

But, being the life and death occasion, I was overjoyed that he returned.

"Katrina!" he yelled.

We rushed toward each other, Masbath close behind.

"Thank God!" said Ichabod, grabbing my arms.

_NNNNNNNNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYY! _

Ok, that was the creepiest whinny I have ever heard.

We all turned to see the stupid Hessian racing toward us.

"Have you come back to arrest him after all?!" shouted my stepmother.

We ran back inside the windmill.

"Watch your head," she cackled.

We bolted the doors shut. Ichabod began throwing heavy sandbags on top, for reinforcement.

"It will not hold!" he shouted.

_BANG!_

"Ahhh!"

_BANG!_

"Climb the ladder. Open the door to the roof and wait," he tried to sound calm.

"Ichabod!" I cried.

"Go! Now! I will follow….hopefully…" he muttered under his breath.

I hugged him. "I love you!" then I started climbing the ladder.

Masbath was at the top. He threw open the doors.

Below, Ichabod began pouring grain all over the floor. He then ran to the ladder.

I was at the top, looking in. Ichabod was being stalked by the stupid Hessian. He was climbing the ladder like there was no tomorrow!

"Ichabod! Behind you!" I warned.

The Horseman swung his axe, just missing Ichabod's foot.

"Ahh!" he screamed and climbed even faster. He got up on the roof.

"Quickly, close it!" I screamed.

"No…" he took my lantern.

"Jump for the sails! Wait till I give the word!" he ordered us.

I looked down. It made me dizzy.

"I can't," I said.

"Yes, you can," he took my hand again.

"Ichabod…don't ever let go…" I whispered.

"Be ready…" he said, looking at Masbath. Then, he dropped the lantern down into the mill. It hit the grain and exploded.

"Now!"

Young Masbath jumped and caught the sail.

Ichabod pulled me and jumped after.

I stood at the edge, scared. The sails were turning. Ichabod was dangling on the end of one.

"Ahh!" I jumped, grabbing the end.

"You did it!" Ichabod pulled himself up over to my side. He put his arm around me.

It takes 20 seconds for the sails to go half way around; and 20 seconds goes by pretty fast.

"Jump!" yelled Ichabod.

I let go and fell in a hay stack.

Young Masbath ran my way.

Ichabod landed by us, and we all started running away from the mill.

"Don't look back!" Ichabod said, taking our hands. "Hurry!"

The windmill exploded behind us.

We all turned around.

"Is he dead?" asked Masbath.

"That's the problem," started Ichabod. "He was dead to begin with…"

The horseman broke open the remains of the door.

"Come on!" Ichabod guided us to the coach.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Anywhere but here!" he whipped the horses. The took off down the path that lead to the tree of the dead.

"Here sir," Masbath handed him his satchel. "You must have something in your bag of tricks,"

"Nothing that will help us, I'm afraid,"

The horseman was gaining on us.

"Here, take the reins," Ichabod slipped them to me while he climbed onto the back of the coach. The horseman drew his sword.

Ichabod pulled out a rifle. He kept shooting at the Horseman, but no bullet could stop him. The horseman jumped for the coach, but missed, falling to the ground, holding the bottom.

I turned around to see a branch.

"Ichabod!"

Boom!

He was knocked down onto the horseman's horse, backwards. I saw him turn around and start galloping back to the front of the coach. Then, he jumped off and grabbed the stupid Hessian's ankle. They were both being dragged.

Ichabod climbed over the Horseman, onto the coach, but slipped, catching the back again. The Horseman let go, waiting for Daredevil to pull him along.

Ichabod once again climbed up, this time not slipping. He looked into the cabin part of the coach.

SSSSTTT!

I heard a sword being drawn.

"AHHHH!"

I turned around to see a sword in front of Ichabod's face.

"My bag!" he screamed.

Masbath gave him his satchel.

The Horseman pulled the sword up once more and stabbed at Ichabod. But Ichabod had the bag to block it. He threw it off the coach.

The Hessian was lying down on top of the coach. Ichabod tried chocking him, but there was no neck! So the Horseman choked Ichabod instead.

"Jump!" he choked.

I pulled Masbath off. We fell onto the two horses that were pulling the thing.

Ichabod detached the carriage from the horses, leaving the horseman to his doom.

Wait, what doom? He's dead!

Well anyway, the coach fell on top of him.

We were dragging poor Ichabod by our horses, well into the Western Woods. We stopped by the tree of the dead, meeting up with my dear stepmother. Ugg.

"Still alive?"

"Run Katrina!" Ichabod warned.

"Yes, do run. And jump. And skip!" she pulled out a pistol. "And now let's see a somersault!"

Ichabod lunged at her. But she turned around and shot him in the chest!

"No!" I screamed, and ran to him.

"Oh, God...no...no…" Masbath bent down.

I felt tugging on my hair.

"Take her, she's yours!" cried my stepmother.

The Horseman trudged my way, sword in hand. A thousand things flooded my head. My Ichabod had gotten shot! The stupid Hessian's sword was raised above my neck! I would die!

"Oh my god!" I screamed. Ichabod was dead. I was going to join him…

"Horseman!" I heard him shout.

I looked to the left. Ichabod was standing up! He was alive! He threw something.

The Horseman let go of me and caught it with one hand.

It was his skull.

I backed into Ichabod. He pulled me back even farther away. We stood to watch the Horseman.

He put the skull where his head should have been, and magically, it snapped in place. New muscle and flesh started growing in. Then, I saw his eyes…

Eww. I buried my head in Ichabod's chest. He ran his hands through my hair.

I peeked at the Horseman.

He was looking at us! He started to come over, but passed us. We sighed and fell down.

The horseman grabbed Lady Van Tassel's unconscious body and pulled it on his horse.

I turned to Ichabod.

"I thought I had lost you," I said, touching the bullet hole.

He opened his jacket, revealing The Book of Spells I had given him.

"I kept it close to my heart…Like you said," he told me. He leaned in for a kiss. Masbath winced and closed his eyes.

I was so happy! I would remember this moment forever! But then I heard my stepmother scream.

Looks like the stupid Hessian got his bloody kiss in too! At least, I think it was a kiss…

Well, whatever it was, Lady Van Tassel/Mary Archer got what she disserved. The not-so-stupid Hessian rode into the bottom of the thick tree trunk. She was screaming the whole time! Her hand stuck out of the Tree of the Dead, seeping blood.

Ichabod stood up and examined the hand. His eyes rolled up, and once more, he fainted.


End file.
